


Running Story

by interabang



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types, Scooby Doo on Zombie Island (1998)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Humor, Road Trips, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interabang/pseuds/interabang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tired of unmasking fake monsters, Daphne leaves it all behind to become a reporter. With Fred at her side, and a road trip series before them, she’s ready for anything. That is, until she has to admit that monsters are real – and so are her feelings for Fred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Story

**Author's Note:**

> "running story: Event that develops and is covered over a period of time" - _[The Wall Street Journal](http://www.encoreleaders.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/WSJ-terminology.pdf)_
> 
> I got this idea from [cyborglovesong's post](http://cyborglovesong.tumblr.com/post/30150962917): “[W]e’re a bit into the future and the gang have gone on and have other jobs and Daphne is super successful in her purple power suits and goes on talk shows and Fred is her assistant/secretary/cameraman/producer/work husband and I want more about that.”
> 
> I wanted more of that too, so I wrote this. I hope it does your idea justice!

As the years passed, the costumes got better, and the plans more elaborate, but the monsters stayed the same:

“Yeah, I was trying to steal the diamond.”

“I wanted to scare off everyone else from getting the inheritance.”

“That formula was gonna make me millions!”

“Those golden galoshes belonged to _me_!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daphne rolled her eyes. “And you would’ve gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for us meddling kids.” She checked her hair for split ends as the latest one, called ‘The Galloping Ghoul,’ was dragged away by the police.

“Hey! How did you know I was gonna say that?” he yelled.

“Hmm. Lucky guess.”

Daphne Blake used to love mystery solving. It wasn’t the mystery aspect that bored her, or looking for clues. She could’ve done with a little less falling through trapdoors or being kidnapped, but even that was more exciting than finding out the culprit was the butler, the banker, or the town prankster. Even the self-proclaimed Lipstick Whisperer of Wisconsin had been one of the more recent criminals, and that one _hurt_ Daphne.

In the end, it was never really a lizard man or werewolf. There was no lady of the lake or banshee that was terrorizing any small town in America.

There just wasn’t any _magic_ anymore.

So, Daphne decided to make her own.

“Like, this is a great place you chose, Daph,” Shaggy said, looking around the ritzy restaurant. Scooby smacked his lips in approval, tying a napkin around his neck and bouncing in anticipation.

“Yeah,” Velma said as she looked over the menu, “it’s way more expensive than what we’re used to.”

“I just thought I’d treat you all a little,” Daphne explained. She usually kept a tight lid on her trust fund money – which led to wearing the same purple dress and stockings 24/7 – but this was a special occasion.

“This is great! Thanks, Daph,” Fred said, and she smiled at him, feeling a little less anxious.

“So, what’s the big news you wanted to tell us?” Velma asked, making Daphne's nerves seesaw right back up.

“Well, you know how we’ve all been feeling a little bored with this whole mystery-solving thing lately?” she asked.

Shaggy shrugged. “Bored? Nah. But Scoob and I _have_ been a little tired! Like, lately all it feels like we’re doing is running in place.” Scooby nodded vigorously in agreement.

“It _has_ been kind of tedious lately,” Velma said. “I think we solved the last case in 20 minutes. It didn’t use to be that quick.”

“Right. Those are all very good points, which is why I’ve come to a decision, and I guess there’s no other way for me to say it.” Daphne paused, then ripped off the Band-Aid in one stroke. “I’m through with mystery solving.”

“You’re _what_?” Shaggy and Scooby cried out.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Daphne said carefully. “And look, I know what we do is great. We’ve helped a lot of people and stopped so many criminals that I’ve lost count. But I’m... I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel like it’s _enough_ anymore, you know? Like it’s almost not even _real_. Does that make any sense?”

“Like, not really,” Shaggy said. “But it’s not fun having to check out all those spooky basements and attics before the rest of you!”

“Reven ror a Scooby Snack!” Scooby added.

“Did she tell you about this already?” Velma asked Fred, having caught the unsurprised look on his face.

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head with one hand. “Um, well, yeah. And when she did, I – oh, I’ll just let her tell you.”

Daphne gave him a grateful look, then addressed the others. “I’ve been thinking about getting into reporting, and since we’re on our way back home, this is a good a time as any for me to start. I want to create a new series, actually. Sort of an Americana road trip showcase without all the fake goblins and ghouls.”

“Oh,” Velma said. “Wow, that’s... huh.”

“What?” Daphne asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

“That’s actually a pretty good idea.”

“You really think so?”

Velma shrugged and covered her wine glass with her hand as the waiter came around with the most expensive bottle of Merlot. “It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot, and if it’ll make you happy, then that’s what you should do.”

Daphne held her wine glass out to be filled. “Thanks, Velma. It means a lot to me that you’re not mad.”

“No, I’m not mad. I’m gonna miss this a little, though. Us all hanging out.”

Daphne was about to take a sip of her wine, but at Velma’s tone, she lowered her glass.

“Hey, so like, what about you, Fred? Are you leaving too?” Shaggy asked as Scooby looked at Fred curiously.

“Yep,” Fred said, sounding much happier than Daphne felt. She guiltily gulped down half her drink. “When Daphne told me about her TV series, I was really interested. Thought I could be her producer —”

“— Assistant,” Daphne added.

“Agent.”

“Don’t forget cameraman. Or secretary.”

“I can multi-task,” he said with a chuckle, and Daphne felt her cheeks flush.

It was the wine.

Definitely the wine.

She kept telling herself that whenever Fred would look over at her throughout the meal, checking if she was okay.

To their credit, the other three stayed, though that wasn’t saying much about Shaggy and Scooby. Daphne knew that feeding them a five-course meal at the fanciest place in town would ease the blow of splitting the gang up. It was Velma that Daphne had been worried about.

Velma chatted with Fred about the show and reacted positively to it being called _Coast to Coast_ , and told Scooby and Shaggy that it was okay to chew their food. She didn’t seem upset. She ate and smiled at Daphne, but Daphne couldn’t fill the growing pit in her stomach, so she tried to drown it with the rest of the Merlot.

For someone who’d made a history of questionable decisions, that would be one of the highest ones on her list.

She stumbled out of the restaurant, clinging to Velma as Fred walked behind them and Scooby and Shaggy slowly followed the rest of them.

“Man, I’m stuffed,” Shaggy announced for the second time. “Like, I don’t think I could eat for a week. How about you, Scoob?”

“Nope. Ruh uh,” Scooby agreed, giggling as they patted their stomachs.

“I think I’ll walk around for a bit before heading back to the hotel,” Velma said, already sounding like she was miles away. Then she hugged Daphne tightly and whispered, “Don’t worry about the rest of us. This’ll give me the chance to open up a bookstore like I always wanted, anyway. This is something you should do. And while you’re touring around the country with Fred, _alone_ , you should also –”

Daphne didn’t catch the rest. Thinking back on it later, she realized she probably would have blushed again if she heard what Velma said.

The rest of their exchange was a bit of a blur. As Daphne was helped into the Mystery Machine, she heard Shaggy and Scooby say something to Fred about going to get snacks – “But you just said you couldn’t eat for a week!” Fred pointed out. “Must’ve been a moment of weakness,” Shaggy said – and Daphne fell asleep on the ride back to the hotel.

She awoke with a start when she realized she was in Fred’s arms, being carried slowly over to the elevator.

“Oh! Fred, I’m awake!” she said, embarrassed that he had to cart her around because she’d drunk her guilt away. He let her down gently and she rushed over to the elevator, nearly tripping over her new, lavender high heels.

“Hey, slow down, Daph,” Fred said, reaching out to steady her by her waist. For a moment, she felt that warm glow return as she looked up at him, but then the guilt came rushing back, and she felt tears pricking her eyes as they went into the elevator.

“I feel awful,” she whispered. Fred pushed the floor button as she leaned against the railing. “And not because of the wine.”

“It’ll pass. You know the others. They’ll manage.” Fred chuckled a bit. “I think Shag and Scoob were a little relieved, to be honest. They might enjoy a less fast-paced kind of life.”

“Yeah. And Velma took it better than I thought she would. I just hope I didn’t make a huge mistake.” Daphne groaned and banged the back of her head against the elevator wall.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t do that,” Fred said, gently taking her by the arm to lead her out of the elevator onto their floor. He helped her walk to her room as she weaved in and out of consciousness, and the next thing she remembered, she was slipping under her blanket as Fred whispered, “You did the right thing. This’ll be good for you.”

“That’s what Velma said, too. I hope it’s true,” Daphne said, then yawned as she curled into her pillow. “And it’ll be good for you too, Mr. Cameraman!”

Fred laughed quietly, said “G’night, boss,” and switched off the lamp next to her bed.

“Thanks, Fred,” Daphne mumbled, beginning to drift back into sleep. “For everything. I’m really... glad you’re... coming with me.”

“Yeah,” he said as he went over to the door. “Me too.”

Right after he closed it, Daphne fell into a deep, deep sleep, and she dreamed about finally getting through one week without having to touch another rubber mask.

 

 

 

“Masks! Fifty percent off! Get ’em while they’re hot!”

Daphne dodged the handful of rubber Frankenstein monster masks that were being waved in her face. They certainly looked hot – hot enough to start melting.

“No, thanks,” she said, a bit more curtly than she usually would have. The motel she and Fred were staying at was right around the corner, and the bathtub was dingy, but it was all she could think about for the past three hours.

Fred was right behind her, as always. He never complained about having to lug around the large, expensive video camera, but she could tell that even he had reached his breaking point and was ready to turn in for the day.

Daphne waved him goodnight when he got to his door, then headed into her room next to his, kicked off her heels, and nearly ripped off her suit jacket as she sighed, half out of relief, half out of exasperation.

Starting off in Vegas had seemed like a good idea: it was close to LA, where they’d done their intro, and there were plenty of places to go to in the city. But she and Fred were turned away from filming in three casinos, the dry heat was absolutely relentless, and some guy on the main road had chased them down the street, yelling that Daphne’s hair was going to eat him. Fred nearly dropped the camera during the one interview they managed to get with a popular club’s owner, and Daphne flubbed half of her questions.

She unzipped her skirt and shimmied out of it, then unbuttoned her blouse and opened her tiny closet to hang up her clothes. 

She stopped for a moment, almost in a daze as her eyes fell on her old purple dress and scarf. She didn’t know why she’d brought them with her - possibly for luck? She blew out an incredulous breath of air. Great load of help they were, so far.

Still, she couldn’t help but reach out and touch the frayed edge of her green scarf. It had been weeks since she last wore it. Had it really been that long? She felt like it had been a part of her forever.

Maybe —

“Hey, Daph? Can I come in?” Fred asked, knocking on the door.

“Oh!” Daphne closed her closet so she could open the door for him. “Yes, I was just...”

 _Getting half naked,_ she remembered, looking down at her underwear just as Fred gasped in shock and turned his head away.

“Oh, gosh, sorry,” he stammered, “I didn’t know you were —”

“— It’s okay,” she said, furious at herself and furiously blushing. She swiftly closed the door so that it covered her, but left a crack so she could peek around the edge. “Did you need something?”

“Uh, well, actually, I was just gonna take a shower, but surprise surprise, the nozzle’s busted,” Fred said, still keeping his gaze trained studiously down the hall even though he couldn’t see anything more than Daphne’s face. “Anyway,” he continued in a rush, “it looks like you’re busy, so I’ll just go back to my room, okay, see you later!”

“Wait, Fred! You can use my shower,” Daphne said, not bothering to wonder why she was so quick to offer when she was just about to take a bath. She opened her closet half-way, yanked out her old dress, and hurriedly slid it over herself before letting Fred in, automatically adjusting her scarf.

“You can look now,” she said, stifling a laugh when Fred nearly walked into the wall, still trying not to look at her.

“Oh, good,” he said, then did a double-take when he saw her outfit. “Hey, that’s a blast from the past!”

“Yeah, sure feels like it.” Daphne gathered her hair all in one hand and flipped it over her scarf. “Did you bring anything from, y’know... Before?”

She backed up out of the tiny hallway and near her bed as Fred said, “Yeah, well, just my ascot. I thought it might bring us some luck.” He snorted at the irony of the situation.

“I had the same idea,” Daphne said, and he smiled his goofy Fred smile, which made _her_ want to smile.

“Maybe it’s just taking a while for the magic to work.”

“Yeah,” she said, then realized she was just standing there and staring at him kind of dreamily, so she gestured to the bathroom behind Fred.

“Oh, thanks.” He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

When she heard the water running, Daphne picked up her skirt and heels, put them away, and stood around awkwardly in front of her bed. What was she supposed to do? Talk to Fred while he was in the shower? She’d never run into this kind of thing before. She’d always bunked with Velma, and Fred slept alone or shared a room with Shaggy and Scooby.

Daphne sat down on her bed, crossing her legs as she debated turning on the TV for some noise.

“So, do you want to try another casino tomorrow?” Fred called through the door, saving Daphne the pressure of figuring out what to do. “Or should we hit the road and see if we’ll do better in another town?”

“Hmm,” Daphne said, and picked up the map that was lying on her nightstand. She unfolded it to the region they were in, and followed the route she and Fred had agreed upon for the first few _Coast to Coast_ episodes.

“Let’s go to Albuquerque next,” she called back. “There’s a desert museum, and maybe if we check out less touristy spots like where we are now, we’ll have better luck.” Plus it was fun to say ‘Albuquerque,’ but Daphne didn’t mention that.

“Sounds like a plan!” Fred fell silent as he showered, and Daphne let him finish in peace. She slowly lowered herself backward onto her bed, then turned on the small TV across the room.

“It was like some kind of wild animal!” A wide-eyed man to the reporter standing next to him. There were snowy mountains in the background, and the reporter had that look Daphne herself had perfected: that plastic fake smile and a gaze that didn't betray judgement.

The man described some kind of creature roaming the mountains, and then the scene cut to a different man and setting. This interviewee looked bored, sitting in his office with a ski lift behind his window.

“Never seen it,” he said, as the words ‘J. Hardy’ appeared below on on the screen, then he scratched his beard. “Even though one or two locals have caught a glimpse, it hasn't hurt any of my business, or the lodge down at the base. I think it might be a —”

Daphne's bathroom door suddenly swung open and Fred stepped out, looking sheepish with a towel slung low around his waist.

Daphne turned off the TV and sat straight up, her eyes widened to the size of saucers, but unlike Fred, she couldn’t fixate her gaze somewhere else. Water rolled off of his bar skin in rivulets, and she could see what she’d always assumed – not fantasized, definitely not – about Fred. He wasn’t going to win any body-building competitions, but he looked sturdy and strong. She’d never seen his arms before, having been hidden under blue and white layers. No wonder he was able to carry her around and hold her while she clung to him for safety. She was similarly fascinated with the way his hair looked while it was damp, how she got to see him when he wasn’t all put-together and presentable to the world, and...

And she realized Fred was talking to her while she was clearly checking him out.

“What did you say?” she asked, and he repeated, “I gotta go back to my room. Forgot a change of clothes. But I’ll be back to pick up my stuff, if that’s okay.”

Daphne nodded, trying and failing to keep her eyes off him as he left.

She remembered, then, that Velma had told her to go for it with Fred, that night after the restaurant. Velma was the smart one, she was smarter than anyone else Daphne knew, but Velma didn’t know how Fred felt about Daphne.

More importantly, _Daphne_ didn’t know how he felt about her. Sure, he was always kind, and beyond patient every time she fell through a secret passage or screwed up one of his traps, but she always figured that's where his feelings, if any, ended, and if they were going to work together alone, Daphne knew it could get messy if she told Fred how she felt.

Almost as if on cue, he came back in, wearing bootcut jeans rather than his bellbottoms, and pulling a light blue button-down over his head.

“Thanks again, Daph. That felt great,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. As he went back into her bathroom to pick up his other clothes, Daphne couldn’t help but look at the curve of Fred’s back, and she gasped a little as she noticed two dimples on his lower back before they disappeared under his shirt.

She sighed and flopped back down on the bed. This was going to be a _long_ trip.

 

 

 

“Won’t be long now until we get there,” Fred said at the wheel, Daphne sitting shotgun as she folded up the map. She was back to wearing her lavender jacket and skirt, her old dress folded up along with her scarf in her suitcase. 

She glanced back at it and couldn’t help but realize, once again, how empty the back of the van looked. Even with all of Daphne's and Fred's personal items, and all the recording equipment, it still looked cavernous. At times, she didn’t know which was worse: that sudden stab of guilt at realizing she missed her other friends, or the long moments she went _without_ thinking about them, because she was too busy planning her next episode.

Vegas had been a wash, but it was soon becoming a distant memory. On a whim, Daphne suggested that they stop at Petrified Forest National Park in Arizona along the way to Albuquerque, and they filmed the landscape for several hours, including a segment with a park ranger. They got a lot of good footage, watching it through the small camera screen while huddling together in the back of the van. Once or twice, Daphne found herself looking at Fred instead of the hiking trails he excitedly pointed out, gushing about how petrified wood was _so_ much better than casinos.

“My favorite part was The Painted Desert,” she said, hugging her knees as Fred fast-forwarded to that section. His camera was pretty high-tech, but Daphne thought that even it couldn’t truly capture the beauty of the area. Its crags and auburn-colored mounds looked delicate and dangerous at the same time, as fiery as her hair. And the mesas’ colors shifted from gold to maroon to white in horizontal stripes. Just standing from afar, pointing at the sights as Fred filmed her, had made Daphne feel a little out of breath – although that could have been because of the altitude.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Daphne had said earlier that day as she stood on a small cliff, dropping her presenting arm and just staring out at the pristine, preserved landscape.

“Yeah,” Fred said quietly from behind the camera, keeping it aimed on her. “Gorgeous.”

“Fred!” she said, a little embarrassed to be caught so candidly on film, her jaw slack and the mic drooping in her hand. “Shouldn't you be focusing the scenery? People aren’t watching for me, you know.”

“Oh, right.” He panned around the area, and Daphne —

Shook herself out of the recent memory as she sat in the back of the van, watching the footage Fred caught. He reached out to pause the video.

“So, should we keep going?” he asked. “Or should we set up camp here for the night?”

“Oh.” Something tugged somewhere below Daphne’s stomach at the idea of sleeping in the back of the van with Fred, and she said, in a higher voice than normal, “Um, let’s keep going. We could still get to Albuquerque, and if we don’t make it before sundown, we’ll find a hotel nearby. I’ll drive. You’ve been carrying that camera all day, you must be beat.”

“I can handle it,” he said with a shrug, but Daphne persisted in taking the wheel, pointing out that they probably weren’t allowed to stay in the parks overnight, so he relented.

After the Petrified Forest, Daphne wasn’t blown away by Albuquerque, but it was nice to get some downtime after the first couple days and growing pains on the road. She and Fred spent half a day editing their footage, he mailed it off to the network back in LA, and she finally took a long, hot bath in a decent hotel. They took a stroll down the street and ate at a local restaurant, and Daphne wondered if it counted as a date, since the group was no longer with them.

“Does it feel weird without the others here?” she asked as Fred dug into his enchiladas. She’d firmly handed back the wine menu to the waiter, having sworn off anything with grapes, and on a whim, chose sopapillas. They tasted great, but she wasn’t feeling very hungry. She never did when she thought about the rest of the gang.

“Sort of,” Fred said. “Remember when we stopped for gas yesterday and I yelled at Shaggy not to buy out half the store? It’s little things like that.”

“I did the same thing with Velma,” Daphne said, sighing glumly. “I woke up and asked if she wanted any coffee this morning, but she wasn’t there. And when I found that hidden box of Scooby Snacks in the back of the van, I...” she traced her food idly with her fork. “I’m happy we’re doing this, especially after the Petrified Forest. And I’m glad you’re here.” Fred brightened when she said that, but his smile faltered when she added, “I just can’t help but feel like there’s a hole where everyone else was. And it’s because of me.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Daph,” Fred told her for what was probably the dozenth time. “It’s gonna take a while to adjust, but we'll get there. Tell you what, tomorrow I’ll get the van’s oil changed, and you can write some postcards to Shaggy and Velma. I’m sure Scooby would be happy to get his box of Snacks in the mail.”

Daphne lowered her fork and smiled at Fred. “That’s a great idea! You know, you make a good secretary.”

“Producer.”

“Sure. Maybe we’ll promote you to cowboy when we finish an episode here,” she said mischievously, feeling much better now that she had an outlet for her loss. Sure, she could write some postcards. How hard could it be?

 

 

 

Daphne tapped her pen against her chin as she sat at the tiny desk in her lodge room, staring down at the two postcards in front of her.

 _Dear Velma,_ was as far as she’d gotten.

In a week.

Maybe she needed to change the postcards. She’d gotten these in Albuquerque, but she was now in Denver, Colorado. Daphne put her pen down as Fred knocked on the door between their rooms and she called out, “Come in!”

“How’re those postcards coming along?” he asked as Daphne sighed, pushing away from the desk.

“They aren’t,” she said flatly. “It’s been seven days, Fred, and I just can’t seem to think of anything to write about! How hard is it to say ‘I miss you,’ anyway?”

“It’ll happen. Maybe what you need is something to say other than your stomach-churning, brain-wracking, misplaced sense of guilt. Something like skiing, perhaps?”

“Ooh, skiing!” Daphne brightened a bit. “Are you ready to go? I didn’t think we were going to start for another hour.”

“The wind’s died down a bit and the clouds are moving away from us, so I think we can head out soon. Should I bring the camera today?”

“Yeah,” Daphne said, capping her pen and breathing a sigh of relief at the distraction. “This is exactly what I need.”

Two hours later, Daphne really regretted saying that.

Fred groaned as he held the camera high up over his head. “Can you grab it without falling in?”

Daphne carefully slid over on her skis to where Fred was, sunk in the snow all the way up to his chest. She slowly reached out to grab the camera, and nearly dropped it when Fred let go.

“Oof!” Daphne cried out as she duck-walked over to a rock. “How do you carry this thing around all the time?” She wiped as much snow as she could off the rock with one hand, then set the camera down and unbuckled her boots from the skis.

“I’ll tell you once I get out of here. Can’t believe I ran into some deep snow,” Fred grumbled as he put his hands on top of the fresh layer around him. When his arms sunk through, he then tried jumping out of the drift, which Daphne couldn’t help but grin at as she stepped out of her skis.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, it’s hilarious. I feel like a popsicle in here.”

“Aw, it's okay, Grumpy. I’ll get you out,” Daphne said, secretly pleased she’d finally get to help Fred out of a sticky situation. It was a rare occasion, and while she’d wanted to watch him flail around in the snow a bit more, she took pity on the poor guy and carefully made her way back to him, checking behind her shoulder if the camera was still on the rock.

“Daphne, be careful around this area, you might —” Fred warned, but it was too late; she was already sinking into the snow herself. She cried out and took another step forward toward Fred, propelling her out of the pocket, but her forward momentum caused her to end up waist-deep right in front of Fred.

“Oh no!” she said, and Fred reached out to grasp her forearms and steady her. Her thoughts changed to _Oh yes_ , but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Well, at least I’m not alone in here,” he offered with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah. Guess misery loves company,” Daphne said, her teeth starting to chatter.

“Who said I’m miserable?” Fred asked as he moved his gloves up to her shoulders, and Daphne looked up at him, suddenly forgetting how cold she was. A warmth spread throughout her body, from within, and she laughed. Could he really mean it? Was it possible...

“But we should probably get out of here, and fast,” Fred added hastily, and Daphne nodded, her shoulders slumping.

“Hmm. I have an idea,” Fred told her. “Put your hands on my shoulders and try to wiggle your way out. Then when you reach a solid patch, you can pull me out too.”

“Okay,” Daphne said uncertainly, and when she put her hands on his shoulders for leverage, she pushed down on them and managed to wrench her boots out of the snow.

“That’s it! Keep pushing down on me,” Fred encouraged her, and when Daphne had lifted herself out of her hole a bit, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up. She felt a swooping sensation as she hovered over him a bit, and as their eyes met, Daphne noticed again how fascinating his were. Depending on the light, his eyes could appear so dark they were nearly black, or they’d be a bright, shining blue. She gasped a bit as the sun’s rays highlighted his face at just the right angle, and before she could even process what was happening, she began to lean in to —

“Hey, there. You two need any help?”

Daphne whipped her head to the side to see another skier wearing goggles and a mask taking a knee near them, the newcomer’s poles dug into the snow as they were reaching out their hand.

“Or maybe some privacy?” the person asked, chuckling, as Daphne exchanged a look with Fred.

Her hands still on Fred’s shoulders and his hands on her waist, Daphne noticed that Fred was straining to hold her up. She was a little suspicious of the stranger, but she didn’t want to pass up the chance for help, so she took their hand and they helped her up out of the drift.

When she, then Fred, made it back onto solid ground, the stranger seemed nonchalant about having saved their shivering asses. “You two okay?” he or she asked, their face still hidden and voice muffled by their mask.

“Yes, we’ll be fine,” Daphne said, brushing snow of her jacket and pants as Fred mourned one of the skis he had to leave behind, stuck deep in the drift. “It was awfully nice of you to stop and rescue us like this. Thanks.” She tried to keep the suspicion out of her tone, but it was difficult. Her heart was pumping quickly with adrenaline. This was usually the part where she’d get captured and whisked off to some evil lair.

“Not a problem. I’m a regular here, so whenever I see people in trouble, I help out.”

Daphne relaxed a bit. “Well, I’m a reporter doing a special on American landmarks, and if you want, I could interview you. What’s your name?”

“Nancy,” the person said, pushing her goggles up over her hood and revealing blonde hair and a pair of wide, blue eyes that were a bit keener than Fred’s, but no less inviting. “And that’s nice of you to offer, but I’d rather not. Probably best to start heading home, anyway.”

“Why’s that? We’ve got a good four hours until nightfall.”

“Don’t know if anyone down at the lodge mentioned it, but there’s an...” Nancy paused to look around, checking as if anyone might be listening, and then whispered, “Abominable Snowman roaming around these slopes.”

Daphne stared at Nancy, struggling with all her might not to burst into laughter.

“Been scaring the tourists around this area for a month now. Anyway,” Nancy said, backing up onto the trail, “You two take care. Good luck with your show.” And she was off, quicker than Daphne could say “Jeepers.”

Fred joined her, holding both the camera and his remaining ski. “Hey, the camera was running the whole time! Think it caught everything?”

“Maybe,” Daphne said distractedly. “If it did, we can just cut it later. This won’t be interesting to anyone else.”

“Okay. I’ll tell the guys back in LA to ignore this... wonderful part. What’d our savior say?” he asked as Daphne took his bent ski.

“Something about an Abominable Snowman,” Daphne said, rolling her eyes.

“Really? Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve dealt with one of those. Do you think it’s her?”

“No,” Daphne said after thinking it over for a moment, chewing on her blistering lip. “Come on, let’s go back to the lodge and dry off. I need to check something out, and then put on some lip gloss.”

The next day, while Fred was in town buying a replacement ski, Daphne used a pay phone to call the Denver police department.

“Hi, this is an anonymous tip,” she said, lowering her voice a little. “The Abominable Snowman that’s terrorizing the locals? Yeah, it’s the guy manning the ski lift, Mr. Hardy.”

She waited for a response, then when she didn’t get the one she expected, she said, “Oh, come on! It’s so obvious that it’s him. He knows where all the skiers will be on the trails, so when there’s not much traffic, he stops the lift and puts on his suit to run around and be a huge creep.

“Motive? Oh, he _definitely_ wants to take over the lodge. The owners are making a ton of money even at this time of year, and with only half the rooms filled up! Once Mr. Hardy drives everyone away, he’ll buy the lodge for cheap and make a fortune when no one notices a big scary monster anymore!”

When the officer asked another question, she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I don’t know where he keeps his costume. He probably has an accomplice; he mentioned he has a brother when I talked to him yesterday. Look, can’t you at least investigate this guy so I don’t have to?”

She got a long, droning answer that she could translate down to simple word: no.

“Okay, fine,” she snapped. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She hung up the phone in a huff as Fred walked up to her, carrying a new ski.

“Hey, Daph. Did they say they’ll look into Mr. Hardy?”

“No!” she said. “It’s like they don’t even want to hear any theories. The police were so much more willing to help us when we solved mysteries.”

“Well, give it time,” Fred said while they headed back to the van. “I’m sure they’ll figure out you’re right and make an arrest soon enough.”

“I hope so,” Daphne said, looking forward to leaving another fake supernatural being behind.

 

 

 

“Down the road, just there, on the corner of Main and 116th, you’ll find it,” Carol, a middle-aged local told Daphne as she held up her microphone. Fred filmed them out on Carol’s porch as she spoke about the small Kansas town and all its landmarks. “Beaumont Hotel. Got a haunted cowboy roaming around in there sometimes. Some guests can hear his spurs when he walks up and down the hallways.”

“Wow, that’s really... interesting!” Daphne said, trying with all her might to sound like it was the most fascinating thing she ever heard. “Say Carol, can you tell us where we might find the best food in Kansas?”

“Well, that’s real easy,” she said with a grin and got up. “Follow me out to the backyard! My husband makes the best hickory smoked ribs you’ll find in the Midwest.”

Daphne glanced at Fred as they both got up and followed Carol inside.

“Good save, partner,” he drawled as she opened the door for him.

“Fred, shh! The camera will pick that up,” Daphne said.

“Don’t worry, the network will cut it out later,” he said, leveling the camera up at her and adding slyly, “Unless you want to check out the hotel for clues...”

“Keep walking, cowboy.” Daphne held the door open as he went inside, and paused to admire the view of his shirt clinging to his back before she followed.

 

 

 

The crowd cheered as Daphne rode the toughest mechanical bull in Austin. She rolled with the movements of the metal beast, laughing and enjoying the encouragement. She held on with one hand and took her cowboy hat off with the other, throwing it into the air and relishing the roar of excitement from the audience gathered around her. The background music helped her keep her rhythm, and she was aware, as always, of Fred filming her. 

“All right!” he shouted. “Ride him, cowgirl! Another forty seconds, and you’ll beat the record!”

Almost as if on cue, the machine began bucking even more wildly, and Daphne began to panic a bit at the erratic movements. She couldn’t keep up with it, it was going too fast for her and jerking too wildly in different directions. She was going to —

She did. She got thrown off with so much force she landed in the crowd.  “Remember folks, she signed a waiver stating she wouldn't sue us if this happened!” the announcer cheerfully reminded everyone.

When Daphne opened her eyes to find out where she’d landed, having braced herself for breaking her butt, she realized Fred was holding her.

“Hey, you okay, Daph?” he asked, his voice partially drowned out by all the raucous screams and disappointed boos.

She could hear him just fine, though.

“Yeah. Guess I need a little more practice before I get up to the big leagues,” Daphne said, then her eyes grew wide with shock. “Fred, the camera! Where is it? Did you —”

“— Drop it? Nah. Juan’s got it covered,” Fred jerked his head right behind him, where their tall, Shaggy-thin tour guide was standing, aiming the camera at them. He wore glasses like Velma and laughed a bit like Scooby. Daphne tried not to look at him much.

“Cut!” she cried, scrambling out of Fred’s arms. This was the last thing Bill needed to see on the raw footage.

Fred let Daphne down and she grabbed the camera from Juan a little too roughly.

“Hey, easy with that, ma’am! I was only trying to get the best-looking couple in here on camera for a bit.”

“Couple?” Daphne switched off the camera, picked up one of her heels that had fallen on the sticky ground, and tried to look dignified while walking away before anyone could see her face, which was as red as her hair. “Come on, Fred, let’s go.”

 

 

 

**POLICE APPREHEND ABOMINABLE SNOWMEN: Hardy brothers convicted of attempted murder and theft**

Daphne sighed, lowering the newspaper to pick up her cup of coffee. South Carolina was a warm and friendly state, but seeing the headline made Daphne want to rush right back to Colorado so she could chew out the officer who hadn’t listened to her.

“Better late than never, huh?” Fred said from across the table, swiveling the newspaper so he could look at the headline.

Daphne set down her mug with more force than she'd intended; coffee spilled out over the sides. “Yeah, I guess two months is better than not at all.”

Aside from the news, their trip had been going fairly well. Some days were better than others, and that was the same for states. Daphne was still surprised that she and Fred ended up staying in Arkansas for two and a half weeks.

Unsurprisingly, they had stayed in Florida for less than a day.

Daphne had decided to skip New Orleans in favor of doing a couple episodes in Mississippi, and she promised Fred they’d go to New Orleans for the next season. “It’ll be the best episode of the show!” she told him.

The postcards from Albuquerque were still stuffed in her suitcase, wrapped up in her old green scarf. Daphne kept telling herself to write. She wanted to find out if Velma got her bookstore up and running, and she worried about Shaggy and Scooby and if they’d managed to find jobs.

Fred had called the others more than a month ago, relaying their news to Daphne. Velma was working at the library back home while taking a class in business, and Shaggy and Scooby were working part-time delivering pizzas. _Were_ being the key word, since they'd both kept eating the customers’ pizzas while driving, so they had just gotten fired before Fred called.

Daphne took out the postcards every once in a while. She’d wanted to talk to the others, wanted to tell them all about the adventures she and Fred were having, but a part of her was holding back. The night before she and Fred had driven up to South Carolina, Daphne dialed Velma’s home number, then hung up right when Velma said, “Hello?”

“So,” Fred said, shaking Daphne out of her thoughts as she stared at her coffee, “Where to, boss?”

Daphne smiled at that. Fred was always there to keep her spirits up. She didn’t know what she would’ve done without him. Once in a while his cheerful, bouncy nature put her on edge, and she couldn’t stand it whenever he hung around after an interview with a cute girl, chatting her up. But Daphne had gotten used to being just with Fred, alone on the road, and sometimes she liked to imagine that he was secretly pleased to be alone with her too.

Daphne went back to business mode as she pulled out their map and spread it out across the diner table, plotting the next destination and episode with Fred. She shoved her fantasies of him to the back of her mind, realizing that if he were truly interested in her, he wouldn’t be flirting with all those cute girls in the first place.

Yes, she knew it was better to keep going, keep driving. The more miles Daphne put between herself and the others, the less guilt she would feel – and the less she would entertain the thought of having a chance with Fred.

 

 

 

“ _Surprise! Happy Birthday, Daphne_!”

She got one of the biggest shocks of her life – and in her lifetime, that was saying a lot – as Fred opened the back of the van to reveal the rest of the gang, but it was a good kind of shock. In fact, it was just what she needed.

The next few moments were a blur as the gang reveled in their reunion, hugging and Scooby licking everyone and Velma doling out stale Scooby Snacks, and Daphne couldn’t contain herself from hugging Fred in thanks. When he tore off the _Coast to Coast_ banner to reveal the original Mystery Machine sign, Daphne felt like she was truly back at home. She beamed at him, at everyone, as she felt things click back into place.

It had been a year, one long year of being separated from the rest of the gang. And at the same time, the past twelve months had flown right by, with just Fred and Daphne at the front of the van. They sang corny pop songs with the radio, they ignored mysteries in favor of recording local landmarks, they ate burgers and shared fries in drive-thru parking lots, and they spent some nights just staying up and talking in one of their rooms. The first season of the show turned out to be a smash hit, and better yet, Daphne would get to spend the second season with more of her favorite people.

And she’d get to spend the second season mystery solving again. She would have laughed in her own face a year ago at the thought, but she did miss it. She had grown more and more frustrated at the authorities’ incompetence, as they let witches and pirate spirits run around while they took forever to solve cases. Daphne found that when she wasn’t filming, or casting side-long glances at Fred, she was searching for clues and secret passageways. Seeing her other friends again renewed her vigor for mystery-solving, and she was determined to find a real monster.

That night, back on the road again, she talked Velma’s ear off about the whole past season, and listened intently as Velma told her about her life. Velma had had an exciting first few months of owning her own bookstore, but after a while, she admitted that it got kind of...

“Stale?” Shaggy guessed, tossing aside a box of Scooby Snacks.

“Yeah,” Velma said. “I mean, it was still pretty cool and all, owning my own place, and I got to read all the time, but —”

“— It just wasn’t the same,” Daphne finished, and Velma grinned as Daphne hugged her tightly.

“I’m so glad to see you all again! It feels like a dream,” Daphne said, before opening the glove compartment to get out her trusty map. “So this season, since we’re going to have a spooky angle on the show, I figured we’d start out here.” She pointed to a spot on the map as Scooby, Shaggy, and Velma leaned in to see. “A fortune-teller there says her building’s been haunted by really evil spirits, so —”

“— Evil sp-spirits?” Shaggy and Scooby echoed, hugging each other and shaking.

“Yeah,” Daphne said enthusiastically, “so get ready for a wild ride, because we’re finally going to nab ourselves a real, live supernatural creature!”

 

 

 

“Boo!” 

“Ahh!” Daphne pretended to scream as a four-year-old girl jumped out at her from behind a pillar at the front entrance of America’s Best, an inn just a few miles away from New Orleans. “You sure got me!”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl’s mother said, catching up to her and extending a hand for Daphne to shake. “Marissa. This is my daughter Nicole. We’re big fans of your show, _Coast to Coast_. It’s all anyone back home watches these days.”

“Wow, well, thank you for watching!” Daphne said, smiling warmly as she shook Marissa’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marissa and Nicole.” She knelt down to shake Nicole’s hand, but instead of shaking it back, the little girl jammed a large, black button in Daphne’s hand. Then she ran around behind her mother as Marissa laughed. “The little ghost is shy all of a sudden! What did you give her, honey? Hmm?”

“A button.”

“Okay, well, where did you find it?”

The girl shrugged.

Her mom dropped her being-nice-around-strangers voice. “Seriously, where did you find it.”

“In the bushes next to the parking lot?”

Marissa gave Daphne an apologetic look.

“That’s all right!” she said as the mother and daughter walked away, looking down at the button in mild confusion.

She was pleased that her show was such a huge hit and that people were congratulating her, but a part of her still wondered _why_. She’d caught a couple glimpses of _Coast to Coast_ here and there, but between being on the road, doing the press junket and being reunited with the rest of the gang, Daphne didn’t have any time to watch her own show. As long as people liked it, she figured it was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the first leg of the new season. Daphne wasn’t going to let the recent unmaskings dash her hopes to the rocks, but she was starting to get a little worried. What would happen if they never found a real live monster or ghost?

It would happen eventually, she told herself as she went out to the parking lot and got her makeup bag out of the van – _Mystery Machine_ , she corrected with a small smile. Despite everything, she still liked seeing the gang’s home away from home back to its original state. She was just putting the odd, large button in her makeup bag while walking back to the hotel, when she suddenly got stopped again by another fan, who was about ten years older than Nicole.

“Hi!” the teenage girl squealed. “Oh my God, you’re Daphne Blake! I. Love. Your show. Can I get an autograph?” She brandished a pen and a copy of _TV Guide_ that had Daphne on it, posing in her purple suit. It was the only picture Daphne had liked from the shoot; she’d especially nixed Fred's favorite, which had Daphne holding up a red, white and blue foam finger that said “WE’RE #1!”

“How’s Fred?” the teenage fan asked, almost as if she read Daphne’s mind. “Is he here? Can I see him?”

“Well,” Daphne said slowly, signing the _TV Guide_ after putting her makeup bag under her arm. Fred was back in her and Velma's room, throwing potato chips in the air so Shaggy could catch them in this mouth, although Scooby kept pushing him away so he could catch them. “Fred's, um, making an important business call. But I’ll tell him you said hi!”

“Is he still cute? Did you two kiss after you got out of the snow? Ooh, I bet it was after you fell off that bull!”

“Excuse me?” Daphne said, furrowing her brow and tightening her grip on the girl’s pen. 

The girl popped her gum and rolled her eyes impatiently. “You know, when you two got stuck in the snow and you two just kind of stared at each other for like, five minutes. Then some dork in a ski mask interrupted you.”

“Actually, that was a rescue.” 

“Okay, whatever,” the kid said with a dismissive wave, “but don’t you, y’know, _like_ Fred? You always joke around with him when you’re done showing a place or interviewing someone.”

Daphne’s face grew hot with horror. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying desperately hard to keep her camera-ready smile fixed.

“You call him ‘cowboy’ sometimes,” the girl giggled. “It’s funny.”

“Thank you for watching the show,” Daphne said quickly, handing back the girl’s _TV Guide_. “I need to go speak with my assistant.”

“I think you mean _partner_ ,” the girl said with a wink. “Tell him ‘Howdy’ for me!”

Daphne smiled at her fakely and waved, then as soon as she turned around to head to her room, she squeezed her makeup bag tightly in a fist and growled as horribly as one of the monsters she used to catch.

Her growl trailed off as she noticed a group of fans practically running toward her, waving their copies of _TV Guide_ and shouting about her cameraman.

“Where's Fred?”

“Are you two dating?”

“If you aren't, can I have his number?”

“What kind of hair products does he use?”

“Name’s Benny,” the only man in the group said, shaking Daphne’s hand with a really strong grip. “Big, big fan of the show. How’s Fred? Tell him he is one  _smooth_ talker!”

“Okay,” Daphne said through gritted teeth, shaking off her hand as she started to sign his copy of _TV Guide_ , which was covered in dog hair, “I’m looking forward to it.”

After about forty minutes of signing autographs, answering questions, diplomatically ignoring pointed comments about she and Fred, and making sure she didn't lose her makeup bag, Daphne was back on the warpath to her room.

“Well hello there, Mr. _Popular_!” she announced, barging through her door and throwing her makeup bag on her bed. Fred was still sitting at the small table next to Velma’s bed, having switched from throwing food to playing poker with Shaggy and Scooby.

“What the — hey!” he cried as she marched over to him and snatched up his hand of cards. As she held it up, Scooby tried to sneak a peek, and then he started to sniff at Daphne’s suit.

She kept a tight grip on Fred's cards, ignoring Scooby. “The jokes, Fred. The asides that aren’t supposed to be in the show? Apparently the segments don’t end when I say ‘cut.’ Why is that?”

“I don’t know!” Fred said, sounding genuinely confused. “I cut when you cut.”

“Like, for once, I hope that doesn’t involve any cheese!” Shaggy said with a giggle, then quailed under Daphne’s furious glare.

She turned it onto Fred. “Why did a dozen teenage girls _and their moms_ come up to me today asking how my ‘cowboy’ is doing? Hmm? Some guy also said you’re a smooth talker, so I can’t wait to hear how you’ll talk your way out of this.”

“Oh.” Fred stopped trying to reach for his cards, and sighed. “When I sent the tapes in, I included a note to leave out those parts. I guess the network decided to keep them in. I’m really sorry, Daph. I’ll call Bill tomorrow and talk to him about it.”

She handed him back his cards. “Good. One fan even asked if the Vegas segment was so short because we got married there, and the _last_ thing I need is a bunch of rumors about us circulating.”

“Someone thinks that we’re married?” Fred asked faintly.

“A bunch of someones do.” 

Fred sat there stunned, lowering his hand - and his cards. Without thinking about it, Daphne placed her hand over his, moving the cards closer to his chest as Scooby kept sniffing her suit jacket. When she finally noticed him doing that, she gently pushed him away. “Scooby, quit it! One of my fans has a dog, big whoop!” 

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Velma closed the book she was reading.

“How come you two didn’t know about this until now?” she asked.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Haven’t either of you even _watched_ your own show? They’ve been playing reruns for ages.” Velma picked up the remote and turned on the TV, then channel-surfed until Daphne could see herself in a rural area.

“Wow, that shade of purple does _not_ do me any favors,” she blurted out, and Scooby shushed her as Velma turned up the volume.

On the tiny screen, Daphne held up a microphone and gestured to the cornfield behind her. “As you can see, many farmers in this town have to harvest immensely large plots of corn and wheat, sometimes working 14 hours a day just to keep up with their commercial demands. Today, we’re going to see just what a day in the life of a ranch hand does, and you’ll get to see me participate in some of the activities!”

“So you’ll be a _real_ cowgirl, then,” Fred called out from behind the camera. “Better get your spurs!”

Daphne sighed, both in real life and on the TV screen as Shaggy and Scooby laughed. “Cut that out,” Daphne said on TV, putting one hand on her hip. “Or _you’ll_ be milking the cow.”

A commercial started playing, and Velma flicked off the TV.

“It’s like that in almost every episode,” Velma said, setting down the remote. “You don’t tell Fred ‘Cut’ when he makes a joke, you just say something similar.”

“Still,” Fred said, noticing the look of dawning anguish on Daphne’s face, “those parts shouldn’t be in the show. Don’t worry. No more side jokes on camera, and I’ll give Bill an earful about it tomorrow.”

Daphne softened at the apologetic look on his face. “Velma’s right. You didn’t do anything wrong, Fred. _I’ll_ talk to Bill tomorrow. And I'll be sure to say ‘Cut’ from now on.”

Fred smiled at that, slowly and in such a way that made it seem almost _reserved_ for just Daphne. She smiled back. 

“So, like, did you get to milk the cow?” Shaggy asked.

“You’ll have to watch the episode to find out,” Daphne said, bending down to ruffle his hair as Scooby stole half his poker _and_ potato chips. “After that, rest up, because we’re heading to New Orleans next! Who knows what we’ll find there?”

Scooby gulped as Shaggy said, “I sure hope it’s nothing!”

When the guys went to their room after watching the _Coast to Coast_ episode, Daphne opened her makeup bag and fished out the button.

“Hey, Velma,” she said, holding it out so Velma could take a look, “have you ever seen anything that would need a button this big?”

Velma adjusted her glasses as she took the black object and appraised it. “Not in this decade. Where’d you find it?”

“I didn’t find it; some little girl gave it to me just outside the entrance. Think I should just throw it away?”

At that moment, a news report came on the TV.

“Lately, groups of tourists have been spotting a large creature roaming the swamps at night. Many of them call the creature a werewolf, but locals have referred to the mysterious night walker as the _rougarou_.”

Daphne and Velma immediately looked at each other, then down at the button Velma was holding.

“Police have advised everyone in town to stay indoors at night, to avoid running into the dangerous beast. Officers are currently conducting an investigation and hope to apprehend the wolf-man as soon as possible.”

“Y’know, it’s pretty bad when the word ‘soon’ is the only thing I don’t buy in that sentence,” Daphne muttered.

Velma handed her back the button, raising an eyebrow. “I think you better hold onto it. Might be a case we could solve before heading down to New Orleans?”

“Hmm, nah,” Daphne said, putting the button back in her makeup bag. “This could be solved by a four-year-old. We’ve got to dream big, Velma!” She turned off the TV, cutting off the news report about another dumb, masked crook. “We’re going to get the real thing, a _real_ monster. I can just feel it.”

 

 

 

A few days later, she did.

They all did. 

As it turned out, _wanting_ to come face-to-face with real ghosts and the undead and actually _seeing_ them had a world of a difference.

But that was another story.

 

 

 

“Wow,” Daphne said as she and the gang got out of the van and headed across the parking lot to America’s Best Inn again, “that was... I can’t even think of how to describe that.”

“I can!” Shaggy said, clutching his face at the memory. “It was like, the most awful, horrible, terrible thing that could ever happen!”

“Reah!” Scooby agreed, clinging onto Shaggy. “Rerrible!”

“But we all survived, thanks to you and Scoob,” Fred pointed out.

“Fred's right,” Daphne said, rolling her suitcase across the concrete and feeling worse than she’d ever felt on the island. She came to a stop in front of everyone, and said to them, “Look, guys, I've been wanting to say I'm sorry about dragging you all out here. I guess I just got so caught up with finding something _real_ that I didn’t think about what I was doing to the group. First splitting us all up, then making all of you go on this trip with me...”

“You didn’t _make_ us,” Velma said, stepping forward. “We wanted to come!”

“I asked them,” Fred added. “I wanted to follow Lena in the first place!”

“I know,” Daphne said, twisting her mouth slightly at that. “But I still feel awful about it. Is there any way I can make it up to —”

Suddenly, Scooby and Shaggy cried out, their hair practically standing on end as Scooby jumped into Shaggy’s arms. “W-w-w-w- _werewolf_!”

“What?” Daphne whirled around to see a shirtless man with the huge head of a wolf running right toward her group in the otherwise empty – and conveniently dim – parking lot.

Maybe it was the fact that she had just lived through a nightmare to which nothing could ever compare. Maybe it was the fact that she was tired of running for her life. 

Or maybe she was just annoyed that someone was interrupting her heartfelt apology to her best friends.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Stop it right there!” Then, as the wolfman kept barreling toward her, she kicked off one of her high heels.

Square into the running werewolf’s face.

 _Bonk_.

“OW!”

The shoe bounced off his face, twisting his mask to the side a bit, and he landed flat on his back. Daphne hopped over to him, the others in tow.

“Like, that’s not the kind of noise a werewolf makes!” Shaggy said.

“Not a werewolf here, Shaggy -  a  _rougarou_ ,” Velma corrected.

“A rou-ra-rou?” Scooby asked, sniffing at the wolfman and then growling. “Ri know that scent!”

Daphne laughed as she noticed flashing police lights in the distance. “Yeah, you smelled it on me before.”

“I hope this doesn’t come clean off like last time,” Fred said, taking hold of the one-eyed mask in both hands. He yanked it off with one tug, and everyone gasped.

“... Like, who is that?” Shaggy said after a moment’s pause.

“Benny, one of the fans who bombarded me before we went to New Orleans,” Daphne explained. “He got hair from the mask all over me, and a little girl gave me a button that used to be an eye in the mask.”

“Why, Benny?” Velma asked.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m a huge fan of the show,” he admitted to Daphne. “When I heard about the second season having a horror theme, I decided to dress up and scare a bunch of people so you’d have to solve a mystery. Then I’d finally get to be on _Coast to Coast_ \- that is, if you meddling adults actually had your camera with you!”

“Looks like it was just a case of bad timing. Our main camera won’t be capturing anything ever again,” Fred said with a disappointed sigh, just as a police officer jumped out of her car and ran over to where the group was gathered.

“Wow,” Daphne said, blinking down at Benny. “That’s it? _That's_ why you put on a mask? It's so... _normal_ of you.” She thought back to the other night, of being chased through the woods by real zombies and almost dying at the hands of three cat-demons, and she said, “Thanks, Benny!”

“No, thank _you_ ,” the police officer said, flashing her badge.

Daphne looked at it, then at the woman’s face, and shouted, “ _Nancy_?”

She grinned at Daphne and Fred. “Good to see you two again. Haven't been falling into any snow drifts lately, have you?”

“You knew about the Hardy brothers, didn’t you?” Daphne said after a moment of thought. “How come you didn’t tell the Denver police department? They took months to solve the case!”

Nancy cuffed Benny and hauled him up onto his feet. “I was still training at the academy,” she explained. “Wasn’t my place to investigate at the time. But if I could point two naturally gifted mystery solvers in the right direction... Trust me, it would’ve taken Denver another two months to solve the case if you didn't tip them off.” She smiled, and so did Daphne.

“I’ll go get the button for evidence,” Velma volunteered.

“It’s in my makeup bag, in the glove compartment!” Daphne called after Velma; Scooby and Shaggy followed her back to the Mystery Machine. “And where is my shoe?”

“Found it,” Fred said, bringing it over.

“Thanks, Fred.” Daphne put her arm on his shoulder to balance herself as she put her high heel back on, but she stumbled a little.

“Woah,” he caught her before she could fall over, and helped her upright, holding her by the arms. “You okay?”

She smiled thinly. “I guess I’m still processing everything that’s been going on,” she said. “Real and fake. What we went through in the past few days was... a lot.”

“‘A lot’ is an understatement,” Fred said with a slight chuckle, and, before Daphne fully realized what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. She could picture the look on his face, even though she couldn’t see it: pure surprise. But he relaxed into her touch and put his arms around her back comfortingly.

“We almost died that night,” Daphne whispered. “It... it really scared me for a moment there. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

“Yeah. I was thinking the same thing.” A year ago, Daphne would have been skittishly trying to find an excuse to push him away, but after everything they’d been through together, it just felt right to be so close to him.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and met his. “You know there was nothing going on between me and Beau, right?”

He gulped and looked to the side in shame. “Well, uh, no. I didn’t. But there was nothing going on between me and Lena, I swear. And I’ll admit I liked finding out that the network included our extra stuff, but I never told them to leave it in.”

“I believe you. I’m sorry I got so mad about Lena. I guess I was just...”

“Jealous. Yeah,” Fred said soberly, “I felt the same way about you and Beau.”

“I just thought that since you always flirted with the girls we met on the road, I might as well try to move on from you.”

“Move on?” Fred looked more shocked than he had since New Orleans. “I only flirted with them because I thought you didn’t like me! All those times you got mad when someone filmed us together, or said something about us... I mean, I know I shouldn't have been upset about Beau. It's not like you can’t date whoever you want. You should be with who you...” He lowered his head, looking a little dejected. “Who you want to be with.”

“I am.”

He looked back down at her, at the way she said that, all at once before she could back out of it out of fear, and as one, they both closed the distance between them for their first kiss.

When their lips met, it felt like it was both too much and not enough at the same time.

The world slowed down around Daphne, everything coming together just for that one simple moment of them finally realizing how much they meant to each other, and she remembered the last sunset on the island, how she’d called it romantic and Fred agreed. She remembered what it had felt like, standing next to him and looking up at all the gold and maroon hues, how the color of their hair blended together in the sky just as it did in the mesas of the Painted Desert. She remembered how the snow didn’t seem so cold when she’d put her hands on Fred’s shoulders to lift herself up, just like she was reaching up now to touch his shoulders, his neck, as he slid his hands down and around her waist.

They opened their mouths to deepen the kiss, and it was a whole new level of sensation. Daphne wanted to cry out with how strong it was, that feeling of both running up a very steep hill and going down a very sharp turn on a mountain. It was that feeling she’d gotten after falling off the bull ride and into his arms, when she watched him come out of the shower, and all the moments he pulled her out of harm’s way.

They kissed like she’d wanted to right before it was all going to end the other night, with a desperation and years of secretive need that was finally being satisfied. As Fred tightened his grip on her waist and she moaned into his mouth, Daphne finally felt the infinite sense of belonging, of her guilt and fear and dissatisfaction all being washed away. She could run through the entire country, she could run from fake zombies and real zombies and even her old self, but all her loved ones, especially Fred, would be running right beside her, so they could all turn around and trap whatever evil was chasing them, whether it be real or fake.

“Freddie,” she whispered, touching the sides of his face when they broke apart. She felt like she would never get tired of touching him, exploring all the parts of his body. She felt like she was brand new, like there was so much more to do, and she couldn’t wait to begin again with him. “I wanted to tell you — before —”

“— Me too, Daph,” he said. “Me too.”

Her heart leaped at that, and they drew back in for another round. She curled into his embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever, and that they would—

“Like, _woah!_ ”

Daphne and Fred quickly separated from each other, sheepishly smoothing down their clothes as Shaggy, Velma, and Scooby approached. Daphne’s heart practically leaped right in her throat as she noticed Velma holding up the small backup video camera.

“Nothing to see here, folks!” Shaggy said, jumping in front of the lens. “This concludes our mystery of the grougarou!”

“ _Rou-ra-rou_ ,” Scooby corrected.

“Gosh, I am so sorry, you guys,” Velma said, sounding apologetic, then flashing a thumbs-up at Daphne in congratulations. “I wanted to get a shot of Benny and Nancy before giving her the evidence.”

“Please!” Benny shouted from over in the squad car, “Oh, please do! That would make me so happy!”

“Hang on; I'm busy,” Velma called over her shoulder to him, then looked at Daphne and said, “I promise I’ll erase this footage after I tape him.”

“Eh, leave it in. I’ll let the network decide if they want to air it,” Daphne said, curling her arm around Fred’s shoulder as he slid his hand over her hip.

“You really mean it?” he asked her, looking just as pleased as she felt.

“If the fans like it, we can't deny them this feature. And we’ll be continuing this later, _cowboy_ ,” Daphne told him slightly, one hand still fingering the collar of his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning broadly.

“Okay, this is getting kind of TMI now. Time to film Benny in his finest hour,” Velma said, turning to leave with the camera.

“Wait!” Daphne called out. “Before you go, I need to give the three of you something.”

“Huh?” Scooby asked, and Daphne broke away from Fred’s hold temporarily to run over to her suitcase.

She turned it over and opened it right in the middle of the parking lot, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for, and proudly rejoined the group, carrying her folded green scarf.

“Like, Daphne,” Shaggy said, looking confused, “it’s really nice of you to give that to us, but um, maybe you should’ve washed it first?”

Daphne laughed. “Oh, Shaggy. I really missed you.” She unfolded the scarf and held out what was inside the center fold for Scooby to pick up.

“Rhut’s this?” he asked, holding two postcards from Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Velma and Shaggy each took one, and Velma read hers aloud.

“‘Dear Velma: Looks like we’ve still got another season of mysteries on our hands! The question is —’”

“‘Dear Shag and Scoob: Are you in?’”

“Zoinks!” Velma said.

“Rinkies!” Scooby added.

“I take it that’s a yes?” Daphne asked. “After what we’ve all been through on Zombie Island, solving regular mysteries and catching human criminals might be just what we need. So? What d’you say, gang?”

The other three cheered in agreement and as they did, Fred wrapped his hand around Daphne’s.

He leaned down and whispered to her, “Sounds good to me, partner.”

 


End file.
